Plod

The thing no one tells you about adulthood is how much of it you spend doing things you don't want to do.  That, in fact, doing things you don't want to do is the very marrow of adulthood; that a life stage that appeared, when you were a child, to be a vast expanse of cabana parties, french-fry eating, and novel swilling actually consists of you dragging your sagging carcass though a series of sorry activities you'd rather do never, and pretending to do it cheerfully.

Waking up with babies: case in point.  TSA lines.  Required trainings about topics of minimal interest.  Soliciting contractor bids.  Losing beloved teachers. Watching your parents disintegrate.  Flights aboard diverted planes.